


Lay Your Body Down

by DevilMadeMeDoIt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Body Worship, Bunker Fic, M/M, Making Love, Massage, Praise, Rimming, Schmoop, Top!Castiel, bottom!Dean, cas ignores the "no chick-flick moments" rule, dean and cas have relations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilMadeMeDoIt/pseuds/DevilMadeMeDoIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hunt-gone-bad, Castiel takes it upon himself to help Dean relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Your Body Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jessi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi/gifts).



> Written for a birthday gift. I asked for a five word prompt for whatever her little heart desired and she gave me: worshiping, praise, rimming, loving, and scar-kissing.
> 
> Hope you love it bb and Happy, Happy Birthday!!!

 

After a millennium or eight of existence, both on earth and in Heaven, Castiel had come to accept that a being could not save every soul it sought to. Dean, on the other hand, in his short life as a human, had never been able to let even one loss go without taking the weight of it upon his already weary shoulders.

 

This most recent hunt had been a disaster, destined to fail from the start, but Dean had taken it especially hard. Castiel had watched from the sidelines, silent and unseen, fighting the default urge he felt to save Dean from himself, to tell him that his efforts would go for naught. But there were lessons Dean needed to learn, and when the hunter had crawled back to the bunker bloody, bruised and bursting at the seams with self-loathing, Castiel realized that the time had come for one such lesson to be taught.

 

He intercepted Dean before he could beeline for the liquor cabinet with a gentle smile. Irritation flashed through Dean's eyes and the smile was not returned.

 

“Dean, there is something I would like to do for you this evening. Will you come with me?” Castiel stood his ground when Dean attempted to nudge past.

 

A muscle twitched in Dean's jaw. His patience was thin, but Castiel held fast. “Does it involve alcohol? Cause if not, gonna have to pass.”

 

Dean turned his face away from Castiel's steady look. “Do you trust me Dean?”

 

When Dean looked back, Castiel felt warmth blossom within his chest. Though the green eyes were tired, sad, the trust that had been so hard to rebuild more often than Castiel deserved, was evident. The corner of Dean's mouth lifted in a wry almost-smile.

 

Castiel held out a hand, palm up and without demand. Dean took in a deep breath, and already a small measure of stress faded with the exhale as he slid his fingers between Castiel's. He pulled Dean close and cupped his cheek as he kissed him softly.

 

He appreciated Dean's willingness to surrender even a tiny bit, treasured it for the gift that it was. His hunter was still beneath his fingers, his mouth, but his tension remained.

 

Castiel squeezed Dean's hand, and broke the kiss, stepping back to lead Dean through the hallways to the bedroom they shared. Dean followed after with a snort of laughter. “Cas, I don't know whatever soppy shit you have planned, but there had better be orgasms.”

 

From the beginning, relations with Dean had always required some amount of censure on Castiel's part. While the angel had never been particularly loquacious there were many things he wished he could say to Dean without fear of derision. Dean's “No chick-flick moments” rule was absurd, but Castiel had attempted to understand it as Dean's own discomfort with expressions of emotions. Fortunately, Castiel took judicious advantage of the fact that Dean believed that social and emotional cues, and the understanding of such things occasionally went above his angelic head, and therefore frequently ignored Dean's rule with impunity.

 

Castiel tugged on the hand attached to his reticent lover and looked over his shoulder with a solemn smile that hid the true depth of his feelings on the matter. “I intend to lay your body down upon our bed and worship every inch of you, Dean Winchester.”

 

Dean swallowed and laughed somewhat shakily. “But...orgasms, right?”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dean. I will ensure your completion as many times as possible.”

 

Dean's eyes darkened and licked his lips, wincing as his tongue encountered a bloody split. “Well alright then. Should probably shower first though.” He looked down at himself, and Castiel acknowledged the blood and dirt covering skin and clothing with a nod.

 

They reached the door and Castiel stopped once more, turning to face Dean. “Do you trust me, Dean?”

 

Dean huffed and opened his mouth to respond, likely sarcastically, and Castiel lifted a finger to press against Dean's lips. “'Yes, Castiel' or 'No, Castiel.' Those are the only words I want to hear from that beautiful, irreverent mouth of yours from this moment forward.”

 

Dean's eyes widened fractionally and wet his lips again, stroking Castiel's finger with his tongue as it slid past before Castiel could remove it.

 

“Cas, I-” Dean stopped at the pointed, expectant look leveled upon him, swallowing tightly. He nodded, exhaling slowly through his nose. “Yes, Castiel.”

 

Castiel rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you, Dean. I have faith that you will do very well tonight.” Dean flushed, but it was obvious how much even that small amount of praise affected him. Dean would deny it until his deathbed, but the man that the affection-starved child had become thrived on praise, craved approval the way Samuel had once craved demon blood.

 

He kissed Dean once more, parting his lips to indulge the touch of Dean's tongue for a moment before inching away to open the door, pulling Dean through where their fingers were still tangled together.

 

o0o

 

Bathing together had long been a favored activity of theirs, but Castiel was not interested in the quick, slippery meeting of hands and mouths as he pushed Dean gently beneath the stream of water. While he had every intention of making the event pleasurable, this was meant to be cleansing in more than one sense of the word. He would use his hands, yes, and mouth and body to cleanse from Dean's skin the remains of the hunt, the gritty residue of perceived failure, the pressures that Dean placed on himself. Relax him and prepare him for what was yet to come.

 

Water poured in glistening rivulets down tired, aching muscles and Dean groaned, rubbing both hands over his face and through his hair as steam filled the air between them. Castiel took Dean's hands, lowering them until they hung at his sides. Dean opened his eyes and looked at him.

 

“Would you allow me to wash you, Dean?” He asked, stroking his thumbs along the sweet, tender skin of Dean's wrists.

 

Dean spoke without breaking the eye contact and the look that passed between them was warm.“Yes, Castiel.”

 

He stepped forward until their bodies brushed, both of them half-erect, arousal without urgency, and kissed Dean's shoulder. “Thank you, Dean.”

 

Castiel took the bar of almond oil soap between his hands and worked it into a lather, suds gathering between his fingers. With both hands he carefully washed the spatters of blood from Dean's face, placing kisses to his forehead, cheeks, and nose as clean skin was revealed. Dean's eyes fluttered shut as Castiel's fingers massaged down to his shoulders, lips following in their wake.

 

Dean was not a perfect specimen, as far as human standards were concerned; scars that told a story of the years of struggle against the supernatural crisscrossed the lightly tanned skin of his arms and chest. Castiel paid tribute to the sacrifice of precious blood that each scar claimed with reverent kisses. He traced the tip of his tongue over each one, some silvery pale with age, others still the puckered pink of just healed skin. He felt Dean shuddering and stroked soapy hands down his broad back, fingertips digging into tense knots of muscle as he found them.

 

He trailed kisses along Dean's jaw until he nosed back to murmur into his ear. “Do you know why I am doing this, Dean?”

 

Dean swallowed a soft whine as Castiel slid his palms over the rounded globes of Dean's backside. “N-no, Castiel.”

 

He hummed and squeezed the firm flesh before releasing it. “You deserve to be taken care of, Dean. You care so greatly about others, but take so little care for yourself.”

 

Dean's eyes opened as Castiel lowered himself to his knees, watching him with eyes that held a warning Castiel had no intention of heeding. He soaped his hands and washed one leg at a time, kneading from rigid thigh to calf, kissing above each battered knee when he had finished. Raising his eyes, he let himself look his fill of Dean's body, finding him hard and flushed, the length of him curved upwards toward his navel. Dean's eyes, when he found them, were smoldering, emerald fires.

 

Castiel ran his hands up the backs of Dean's thighs, fingertips teasing at the crease of his cheeks. “Would you like me to touch you, Dean?”

 

Dean trembled. “ _God_. Yes, Castiel.”

 

He nuzzled his face along Dean's hips, following the line of muscle down to the nest of water-darkened curls at his groin. He smiled into Dean's skin as he felt a hand hover over his head for a moment before falling back to his side. He kissed and licked the folds of skin on either side of him, purposely avoiding contact with the thick cock twitching with need.

 

He looked up at Dean. “Do you believe you deserve to be taken care of, Dean? Do you deserve this?”

 

He watched as the desire to say 'No' and the desire to be touched warred over Dean's features. Castiel reached up and rested his hands on Dean's hips, grounding him with soft circles of his thumbs on the prominent bones. He waited, knowing already that Dean would give no response. Dean believed that pain and suffering were his lot in life, rarely took the time to truly enjoy anything without guilt, and Dean would not allow himself to lie about this, even if it earned him pleasure. Castiel knew, and was not bothered. Dean would learn in time, he would take care to make it so.

 

Dean's jaw clenched and he stared down at Castiel, eyes pleading where his mouth would not.

 

Castiel stood, hands sliding up Dean's chest and farther to take his face between them. He gave Dean a smile and kissed his mouth, feeling Dean's whimper beneath his lips. When they parted he found Dean's eyes and held his gaze. “It's alright, Dean. I know you don't believe it. But you will.” He kissed him once more, a mere brush of lips to the corner of his mouth before he whispered. “You will.”

 

o0o

 

The rest of the shower was concluded quickly, but without rushing. Castiel avoided touching Dean more sexually, so as to not frustrate him, for that was not the goal. Building anticipation? Yes. But not frustration.

 

He dried Dean by hand, though dried himself with a thought. His hands never left Dean's body, a reassuring connection that the hunter clung to like a lifeline. He led Dean out of the en suite to the bedroom that he had prepared using his 'mojo' while they had showered.

 

He glared half-heartedly at Dean when he stifled a laugh at the display. The room was darkened, lit only with the diffused glow of a number of sweet scented candles placed on various surfaces. A soft coverlet was stretched over the bed and fragrant flower petals had been scattered across the top.

 

Dean gave into his laughter and hooked an arm around Castiel's waist when he scowled, bringing their shower-flushed skin together. “Soppy, romantic sh-”

 

Castiel shut him up with a growling, punishing kiss that softened by degrees as Dean clutched him close, running calloused hands over his back. Castiel pushed him back, his pride soothed a bit when he saw the brightness of Dean's eyes and the fond way his mouth curled up at Castiel's expense.

 

He shook his head in exasperation. “Will you be quiet and get on the bed already?”

 

Dean grinned cheekily. “Yes, Castiel.”  
  
  
He watched Dean crawl onto the bed, his movements blatantly sensual as he arched and wiggled. He felt himself growing hard as Dean bent at the waist, resting his weight onto his knees and forearms, legs splayed open in invitation to touch. Dean's grin faded and his eyes darkened when Castiel simply stood there and stared at all of the delicious, bare flesh. He wanted to sink himself into the heat of Dean's body, to feel tight, smooth muscle around him.

 

No. He had _plans_. 

 

He took a deep breath to settle himself, willing away the eager desire throbbing through him. When he opened his eyes, Dean was looking back at him uncertainly. Castiel released a calming breath. “Lay flat on the bed please, Dean.” 

 

Dean pouted, but obeyed, groaning at the feeling of the silky petals against his skin and the press of his cock into the bedding. He rolled his hips, and Castiel allowed it for a few moments. He cleared his throat and Dean stopped, the skin from his neck down flushing gorgeously. With his own secret smile, Castiel climbed up and straddled Dean's thighs, his cock sliding along Dean's heated cleft. 

 

Pressing kisses up along Dean's spine he leaned forward until he could reach one of the thick pillar candles he'd set on the nightstand. He sucked a mark onto the side of Dean's throat before sitting up straight. “This will be hot, but it is not meant to hurt. Do you trust me?” He asked quietly.

 

Dean peered over his shoulder at the candle in Castiel's hand and regarded it warily, but nodded. “Yes, Castiel.”

 

“Thank you, Dean.” He smiled. Castiel tipped the candle over and drizzled the melted massage oil over Dean's shoulders and down the center of his back. He anchored the candle safely in the air with a little push of power, close enough to grab but far enough away to ensure hair, skin, and bedding were safe from the flame. 

 

Dragging his fingers through the warm oil, he spread it across Dean's skin, pleased to hear a pleasured sigh at the massage. He began with Dean's shoulders, stroking and kneading tough muscles into relaxation. He kissed the apex of each shoulder before speaking.

 

“Do you know how much these shoulders have carried, Dean? Many times you have carried, almost literally, the weight of the entire world upon these shoulders. You were yoked with responsibility, of your brother, for the safety of others, at an age when you should have been free of such burdens.”

 

Dean breathed beneath him, but remained silent, as expected. Castiel slid down his body further and ran the knuckles of his hands over the dips and ridges of Dean's spine. He spoke into Dean's skin, interspersing words with kisses. 

 

“Many believe that the spine represents the ladder, the journey toward wisdom. From here,” He touched his mouth to the base of his lower back, lower lip brushing the top of Dean's cleft. “Man journeys from the seat of basic humanity, to here,” Another touch of his mouth to the base of Dean's skull. “Man finds wisdom.” He stroked his fingers over Dean's back as a whole. “You are wise, Dean, though you do not see yourself as such. You have made foolish, impulsive decisions, yes, but that only makes you human, not unintelligent.”

 

Castiel raised up onto his knees. “Roll over onto your back, please.” Dean rolled slowly, and when he was settled he looked up, eyes full of emotion that was so often hidden away for fear of showing weakness. Castiel smiled down at him and reached for the candle again. 

 

He drizzled the oil over Dean's arms, and followed it with his hands. From the shoulders down he stroked, pushed with his fingers all the love that he felt for this man into his skin. Castiel plucked one of Dean's hands from where it lay on the bed and worked a gentle massage over the delicate bones that made up hands that were strong, capable, and utterly giving.

 

“You deserve to be cared for Dean, because you do so much for others,” He kissed the palm of Dean's hand, and the tip of each finger before moving to the repeat his actions upon the other. “You _give_ so much, and never take, never ask for anything in return.”

 

Next, oil was spread over Dean's chest, and he could feel Dean's breath, shaky under his hands. Castiel rocked his hips until Dean's cock was a line of heat beside his and Dean gasped. He bent forward and kissed over Dean's heart beneath his anti-possession tattoo. “You deserve to be loved, Dean. Because you believe yourself unworthy of it. Nothing could be further from the truth, Dean. You love passionately, with your entire heart,” Castiel mouthed up Dean's chest, over his throat and jaw until he hovered over his lips, staring down into his eyes. “And you are loved,  _passionately,_ in return.” 

 

He kissed Dean fiercely until he broke away gasping for air. With a sob, Dean's arms wrapped around his back and buried his face into Castiel's neck. Castiel stroked a hand through Dean's hair, kissed the side of his face as Dean shook. When he calmed, Castiel raised his face to Dean's, brushing a thumb over Dean's lips. “Let me make love to you, Dean.”

 

Dean sucked in a breath. “Yes. Castiel, Cas.. _yes_ .”

 

Castiel murmured his thanks against Dean's lips. 

 

Dean's body was warm and pliant as he allowed Castiel to arrange him as he wished. When Dean had been returned to his original position, up on his knees, chest pressed to the bed, Castiel groaned with wanting. Dean was flushed from head to toe, his eyes dark and cock hard and dripping onto the coverlet. Castiel draped himself over Dean's back, mouth to his ear. “I want to taste you.”

 

Dean moaned, “Yes.  _Please_ , Castiel.”

 

Castiel used his hands to spread Dean open wide, thumbs tracing over the twitching rim of muscle as he stared. Dean jerked as he bowed his head and swiped the flat of his tongue over his entrance, wriggling his hips to press back against Castiel's face. 

 

He feasted with abandon, spearing his tongue into Dean over and over again, licking open the softening muscles and Dean clenched his hands into the bedding, keening when Castiel slid an oiled thumb into the tight opening beside his tongue. 

 

One finger became two as he sucked at the dark, slick furl, stretching Dean open slowly. Dean begged wordlessly for more, and Castiel dumped the rest of the oil into his palm, blowing out the candle and throwing it over the edge of the bed before taking himself in hand and spreading the slick liquid over his aching length. 

 

Dean turned onto his side when directed and Castiel pressed himself to Dean's back, feeling the way he trembled. Holding onto the base of his cock with one hand, he raised Dean's leg with the other and pushed himself inside in one thrust, both of them crying out at the feeling. He began a slow, deep rhythm, wrapping his arm around Dean's chest to hold their bodies close, listening to Dean's ragged breathing, the gasping moans as he was filled. 

 

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, fighting his body's demand to race to completion and continued rocking them together. His fingers tightened around Dean's thigh when Dean clenched his muscles around Castiel's cock, shoving his body back hard. 

 

“Cas...oh God, Cas. Gonna come. Need you to come with me, please angel.” He pleaded, fingers sliding into Castiel's hair. 

 

He groaned and quickened his pace, until Dean was clinging to him by his hair and fisting his cock in time with Castiel's frantic thrusts. In the next moment, Dean cried out, arching his back sharply and every muscle locked down tight as he came like a shot over his own fist. Castiel slammed inside, chasing the rising wave of his own release about to crash over him and spilled with a shout, every nerve ending screaming out its pleasure.

 

They panted together in a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs. Castiel stroked a hand up Dean's body and pulled him closer, not willing to lose the heat of him yet, just enjoying being inside of his body without moving. Dean groaned, but turned his head to meet Castiel's wandering mouth. 

 

When the kiss ended, Castiel dropped his head to rest against Dean's shoulder with a sated sigh. “I love you, Dean. Do you know?”

 

He could hear the smile in Dean's voice when he answered with a drowsy, “Yes, Castiel.”

 

 

 


End file.
